


Snowblind

by Jaydee_Faire



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Fingering, Implied Underage, Jon Spiro is gross, Kidnapped Artemis AU, M/M, Rape, This is not a fun and family friendly fic, Underage - Freeform, blowjob, do not read this at chuck e cheese, non-con, weird artsy writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:19:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7155290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaydee_Faire/pseuds/Jaydee_Faire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the white in this place is blinding him. He doesn't mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowblind

He breathes in until his lungs hurt, turns his head to one side, sighs it out. There’s a raspy chuckle that he hates, but he hates it a lot less than the kisses that taste of cigarettes and chemicals. Somewhere in between hating the sounds the mouth makes and the way it tastes is how it feels on his skin, strangely clammy, hardly damp, with a scraping of a sandpaper tongue.

Even that hatred is sorted into neat sections: he loathes the feel of the mouth on his, but much prefers that to when it strays to other parts of him, sucking the warmth from his skin, yellowed teeth scraping against goosebumps.

He closes his eyes, opens them again. Open or closed, all he can see these days is white. The wall is white. The sheets, rumpled and creased underneath him. The thick comforter, the soft goosedown pillows. The linen suit in a pile near the door. The sparse curling of hairs. The slow warm drip down his thigh. His knuckles and the sparks behind his eyelids when he grits his teeth and bites his lip.

“Doctors keep saying I shouldn’t be doing this. Said it’s bad for my heart.” The voice comes into him without permission. He’d push it away if he could. “I told them, hey, a man can give up a lotta things, right? But not this.” and the hands, the thick fingers, almost as bad as the mouth, reaching forth to make him move in ways he didn’t want to. Like pulling a puppet’s strings, the fingers pull and his back arches, his knees bend, his toes curl. Again, and it turns into a ventriloquist’s act of someone else’s high, desperate voice coming from his lips. “Not this.”

No, someone else’s voice is pleading. No, no, no.

But no matter how he hates the voice and the mouth and the fingers, he knows it can get worse and it does. He looks at the white of the wall, at the white behind his eyelids. It gets worse. His body shudders– almost, but no– and it gets worse again. And again. Someone uses his voice to beg. It ends with his face against the white sheets, which is only a little better. Worse again. And finally the hard and painful clench of his body and that same rasping laugh again. 

White on the wall and in his eyes and down one cheek and against his tongue, bitter. 

“I’m no doctor, but I just can’t imagine anything better for my heart than this.” The hands again, in places that he hates just a little less than inside him. “I mean, they keep telling me to get more exercise, right? And _you_ are a work out.”

White in the sheets and in the shadows made by the too-bright light. White in the places where revulsion has long since been replaced by apathy.

“Tuckered you out, didn’t I? Not an old man yet! I think you’ve earned yourself a little nap.”

White in the place where he goes at night, white in whatever dreams manage to squeeze through.

White in the tiny sting of pain where the hand slaps him.

“Glad you’re finally learning your place. I warned you what would happen if you kept pushing the envelope, didn’t I? And now you’ve finally gotten it, eh Arty?”

He breathes in until his lungs hurt, turns his head to one side, sighs it out.

**Author's Note:**

> Sabra and I spent all of one year and part of another just thinking up different ways to stick Artemis with Spiro and have it Be Awful, because at heart we're honestly just bad people.


End file.
